Thursday, November 3, 2011

more days

Lonely and sad. Numb and smileless. Ignoring reality takes all my energy. Can't think about the box. Haven't seen his pony tail. I keep washing his clothes, folding them, putting them away. The doggies are sleeping at my feet.

TV, TV, and more TV. Can't let those thoughts slip in.Still standing in the middle of the desert. More glass spots are forming. The sun is overhead but not emitting much heat. Just staring into nothingness.

About Me

Poetry is not an opinion expressed. It is a song that arises from a bleeding heart or a smiling mouth.
Kahlil Gibran
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Because of its tremendous solemnity death is the light in which great passions, both good and bad, become transparent, no longer limited by outward appearances. Soren Kierkegaard